


Cold Slushies and Hot Firepits

by notaguitarfret



Series: "They're all girlfriends" AU [35]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/F, discussions of abuse and trauma, lowkey pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24959107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaguitarfret/pseuds/notaguitarfret
Summary: Heather Chandler tried to figure out what the fuck to do with herself.
Relationships: Heather Chandler & Jason "J. D." Dean, Heather Chandler/Heather Duke
Series: "They're all girlfriends" AU [35]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1053590
Comments: 18
Kudos: 147





	Cold Slushies and Hot Firepits

How would Heather describe her week so far?

Shit? Completely and utterly miserable? No, that was all too nice. She couldn’t think of a word to truly express how she felt right now, but none of it was good. Not even with Heather Duke regularly visiting her to ‘check that she hadn’t died from alcohol poisoning yet’, even if seeing her did brighten her mood. But even with seeing her (admittedly, growing) crush come to check on her wellbeing still brought yet another dark cloud to loom over her, because all that her complete change in appearance reminded her of was how everything back at school and with her friends were changing, while she was left behind, the same mess she’d always been.

It wasn’t fair.

She _wanted_ things to go back to normal. She _wanted_ to be able to see Veronica and Mac again, and she couldn’t stop wishing that she had just taken a fucking sick day last Wednesday, because then maybe, she wouldn’t be where she was now. Sitting in a low-hanging tree (because like hell she was climbing shit) on the outskirts of school property, listening to whoops and cheers of her peers as a soccer game played out before them. She wasn’t into sports - she found it boring and pointless, but she’d always go to pep rallies anyway since everyone wanted and expected her to be there.

This time, not only was she not expected there, she wasn’t even _allowed_ there. She could hardly tell what was happening most of the time - the bleachers were all in the way. She had to look through an open corner between two of them to get any sort of view, and even that was limited.

At least the blonde hair was still recognisable, even from her extremely poor seat.

“I didn’t think you liked soccer.”

The sound of someone’s voice made her flinch, but she somehow wasn’t surprised. Maybe it was because the voice was recognisable to know who it was, and so him appearing out of thin air was to be expected.

“I don’t.”

She kept her eyes on the game ahead, but was fully aware of JD clambering onto the tree she sat on. Luckily, he knew to keep his distance from her.

“Why are you here, then?”

Heather sank her teeth into her lip.

“I told her I’d watch.” She saw Mac’s tiny, distant figure come into view again. She yearned to just sit on the front row, no doubt where Heather and Veronica would be, cheering her on and snapping at anyone who said anything about her. “It’s her first proper game; I couldn’t miss it.”

JD gave a hum in acknowledgement, and after a long, drawn-out silence, Heather had to ask,

“What are _you_ doing here?”

“Why do you need to know?”

Heather curled her lip bitterly.

“I thought you weren’t talking to me.”

“I never said that.”

Heather slowly turned towards him. He looked as neutral as ever, a cigarette between his lips and a deadpan stare.

“But you said-”

“I just told you to stop using me as a therapist and then treating me like shit.” He shrugged. “That’s all.”

“Yeah, well, I kinda fucked up in that last regard, didn’t I?” She shuffled further away from him and lifted a leg onto the tree so she could rest an arm on it. Then she could hide her face from him, at least.

“Well, sure, but at least it wasn’t just me.”

“That makes nothing any better.”

Above her arm, she saw a cloud of smoke released into the air. She knew he’d taken a moment to breathe.

“Say, I would have thought your parents grounded you,” he said. “Are they really that lenient?”

“No,” she grunted. “I am grounded, they’re just on a business trip. Not that they’d notice I was gone for a good few hours after escaping anyway.”

“They really trust you to uphold the grounding rule?”

“I doubt that.”

JD gave an amused huff. “Actually, I’m surprised you’re not expelled.”

Heather lowered her arm to look at him. “My dad bribed the principal. They didn’t want to go through the trouble of transferring me.”

“Ah, makes sense.” The corner of his mouth turned upwards, which was rare to see on him. It was strangely comforting, and Heather found her tense muscles relaxing.

“Why aren’t you with your friends right now?” she asked.

“Oh, they’re going ‘soul-searching shopping’ later, but I’m not going.”

“Why not?” She raised a brow. “Also, ‘soul-searching shopping’?”

“Heather came up with it,” JD said. “And I have a shift at 7/11 later, so there isn’t much point in me going when I’ll need to leave in the middle of it.”

She stifled a snicker. “You’re actually working at 7/11?”

“Hey, Betty’s parents aren’t rich - I need to earn a bit of money to make living there less of a pain.” He breathed in more smoke. “Also, I need money for my transition.”

And suddenly, Heather became uncomfortable. She gave a grunt in response, unsure how to answer.

“Can’t wait until this weight off my chest is lifted,” JD then murmured, all brooding-like. Grimacing, Chandler glimpsed at him nervously.

“What weight?”

“My tits. Duh.” His mouth snapped back up into a smirk and he gave a peace sign, while Heather just deadpanned at him.

“Ha-ha.”

“Heather, you’re obliged to laugh at all of my jokes after what you did.”

She squinted at him. “Seriously? Out of all the things you could ask from me, that’s what you pick?”

“Yes, I want to be funny.”

Rolling her eyes, Heather decided to humour him, and forced out a laugh.

“I take it back, hearing you laugh is weird."

“I’ve been told my laugh is very beautiful, actually.”

“By who, Veronica? Because she also thinks I’m attractive, and we all know your thoughts about _those_ standards.”

Heather’s jaw hung open at his statement, but she couldn’t come up with an argument. Instead, she thought it would be good to fuck with him and sign “fuck you”, meaning, no middle finger involved. She expected him to be confused, but instead, he just raised a brow.

“Fuck you too I guess.”

“Wh- you know sign language?”

“I know how to swear in _all_ languages, perra.”

“Don’t call me una perra, dickhead.”

“You know Spanish?”

“I know how to swear in Spanish, because Mac can swear in Spanish.”

Speaking of which, a roaring of the crowd interrupted their conversation. Students were standing up and cheering - most notably the students from Westerburg. The game was still happening, and at a closer look, she saw that one of Westerburg’s teammates was dribbling the ball and darting across the field at a quick pace. What made her chest swell with pride, though, was the fact that the teammate in question was Mac. She couldn’t see properly, but she stayed in her view, and as she drew closer to one side of the field, the opponent team closing in on her in a desperate attempt to save the ball, but to no avail. About half a second before one of them attempted to tackle Mac, she kicked the ball as hard as she could, and while she couldn’t see the goal from where she sat, by how the cheering somehow raised in volume, with some people jumping up and down in the bleachers.

Seconds after, a whistle was blown, and people got up from the bleachers, running down to their respective teams. She vaguely saw who she was pretty sure was Hale and Diego lifting Mac up off her feet as her team crowded around her in excitement. She was carried away out of her sight, but even then, Heather didn’t keep her eyes off the field in hopes that she’d see her again.

“Okay, in fairness, your smile isn’t _that_ bad.”

She tore her gaze away from the game and back to JD, who looked a little weirded out by the fact that her lips were turned upwards. They immediately dropped again, and she cleared her throat.

“She made the winning shot,” she said. “2-1 to Westerburg, right?”

“I dunno, I wasn’t counting.”

“I was. She just saved it from being tied.” As proud and happy for her as she was, a somber feeling settled in, realising that she wouldn’t be able to go and congratulate her afterwards. She longed to pull her aside, maybe kiss her deeply and hold her close, telling her how she never failed to amaze her. Veronica would be by her side agreeing, maybe trying to steal Mac away for herself, while Duke would stand back and laugh in good spirit. She missed it, she missed all of it, but no matter how hard she wished, she knew she wouldn’t get it back.

“You wanna go get a slushie?”

Snapping her out of her increasingly depressing thoughts, JD looked at her with an incredibly calm expression. She stared at him, dumbfounded.

“I’m sorry?”

“A slushie. 7/11. Big Gulp. Wanna go?”

Suddenly Heather was incredibly suspicious. Why was he even here? She would have thought he wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole, but now he was inviting her to come and get snacks with him and acting as if nothing had happened? There had to be something up.

“Why would I do that?”

“Do you have anything better to do?”

Heather’s gaze drifted back to the soccer field. She couldn’t see Mac anymore, nor could she see any familiar faces. Even if she could, though, she wouldn’t be able to see them up close.

“No.”

“Then let’s go.”

It was quite the assumption for him to just jump down from the tree and expect her to follow, so luckily for him, Heather really was so defeated that she was now following him. They weren’t parked in the school parking lot - Heather wasn’t allowed to. She’d parked further down the street where no one would be suspicious, but why JD’s motorcycle was parked not too far away, she was more curious about. At least it answered the question as to how he knew she was even lurking in the woods at the back of the school, but why he went through the effort of looking for her, she still had no clue.

She ended up tailing JD the whole way there. She wasn’t one for tailing, but what was she really trying to prove, here? That she knew the way to 7/11 better than he did? It wasn’t even true - her sense of direction was bad and she knew it.

They arrived not long after they’d left, and JD was actually able to park in a staff’s space. She didn’t - she parked on the other end of the lot. Having anything in her possession next to something owned by him still felt wrong, even if she was willingly ‘hanging out’ with him in public.

He waited for her by the door, and they wordlessly entered the store. She followed him to the slushie machine and turned to her.

“So, what flavour do you want?”

Heather raised a brow at him, then looked at the coloured mush swirling around the machine, her nose scrunching up in disgust.

“I’m not going to drink that piss.”

“Have you got anything better to do?” JD asked as he grabbed a cup for himself. He went for cherry. Fuck, that’s the flavour she _would_ have went for, but now doing that would make her feel like she’s copying him. Not that she was going to try drinking it, because it was literally just ice mixed with chemicals. There is absolutely no way she is going to do it, not even when JD is looking at her expectantly, as if he _knew_ that she would begrudgingly snatch a cup for herself and pick a completely random colour because she totally didn’t care what flavour she was getting.

“Ew, you’re going for lime?” JD said. Heather scowled.

“Do you want me to try your shit or not?”

“I’m just saying, if it tastes like crap, it’s because you chose the worst flavour.”

“I actually think lime is an okay flavour.”

“Okay. Freak.”

She would have shot back with a sarcastic “you’re certainly one to speak,” but she stopped herself, knowing that after everything, it would be the worst thing she could possibly say. She hated to stay silent, but trying to up someone for such a petty quip suddenly wasn’t a priority anymore.

They paid for their drinks, and Heather blindly followed JD back outside and then around the building. Realising she was being led to the patch of woods behind the store gave her a sense of deja vu. Not a good or bad sense, just a very neutral feeling.

Her hand was cold against her cup, and she almost forgot to swap which hand she was using so as to not freeze her poor blood cells. The log they had sat on last time looked exactly the same, and silently, they both sat down. Heather placed the drink between her thighs - she wasn’t interested in tasting it quite yet. After a while of JD not talking at all, instead just acting as if they were sharing a comfortable, friendly silence, she had to speak up.

“Why are you talking to me?”

JD glimpsed at her. “Didn’t we go over this?”

“No, we didn’t.” She frowned at him. “JD, I risked you and your friends’ safety - I risked my _own_ friend’s fucking safety - all to keep people from using me as a target for gossip and ridicule - and even then I can’t escape from it, because it was fucking recorded for TV. I did something incredibly selfish and stupid and it came as a surprise to no one but the one person who had faith in me, because that’s just _who I am._ ” She narrowed her gaze at him. “You’re really fucking difficult to read, but I know one thing about you for sure, and that is you _hate_ people like me.”

JD gazed back at her with an unchanging expression. He finished sipping his slushie and replied,

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Somehow that made everything even more confusing, and she let out a growl of frustration.

“Then _why did you bring me here?_ ”

She had to wait two or three seconds for a response, mainly since he had to remove the straw from his mouth and place his cup between his legs. She watched him dig through the inside of his trenchcoat for a bit, feeling more on edge the longer she was kept waiting. Eventually, he finally pulled his hand back out, now holding several long strips of paper with a thick black outline. He handed her the rolled up slips, and though she was confused, she took them anyway.

“What is this?”

“They’re the tapes,” JD said. “You’re never going to be on TV, and neither will Heather.” He picked his drink back up and sipped it. “You’re going to be fine.”

The realisation set in, and an overwhelming sense of relief, confusion and _amazement_ made her palm begin to sweat. She stared at the tapes in her hand, struggling to believe that all the humiliating and dangerous footage that she had feared ever since the day was right there in her hands, safe from whatever vultures wanted to steal it and share it with the rest of the world.

“How… how do you have these?”

“Who do you think turned the power off?” She saw a glint of smugness in his expression for a second. “Sorry it took a while. I had to pick the lock of the power room, and _then_ I had to find the right switch.” He paused when he got a hint of brain freeze. “I would have just pulled the fire alarm, but if the sprinklers went off and broke the cameras, I’d be in trouble, and I’m technically homeless and _cannot_ afford to face those charges. The worst I’d get for switching a button though would be suspension, I guess.”

Heather didn’t care. She didn’t care about the flaws, about how he was maybe two or three minutes too late to save her or Heather, or that there were probably simpler ways to do it. All that mattered was that he _did_ it for reasons she still didn’t understand.

“I… but I don’t… why did you do it?” she asked, her voice quiet. “And why are you giving these to me?”

“I saw you up there, Heather. I knew exactly what you were going through.” The stale gaze he always wore suddenly melted, and Heather found herself staring into a pair of sympathetic blue eyes, eyes just like her own. “I know you messed up and I know you shouldn’t have done what you did, but you were trying. I could tell you were, I know how that feels all too well.”

Heather gave a dismissive huff. “I should have listened to Veronica and take a sick day.”

“But you wanted to prove that you could do it.” He stared at her seriously, and Heather slowly nodded, burning with shame. “I know how that feels.”

“Do you feel anything? You’re like a book with a blank cover.”

“Yeah, but to be a book there has to be words in that thing.” JD shuffled a little closer to her. “How about I actually read some of it to you?”

Heather tilted her head. “Go on.”

“Betty has been asking me to move in with her for _years,_ ” JD said. “I always said no, because I thought, no, my dad doesn’t scare me. I can keep living with him, I’m not going to run away like a coward. I’m _stronger_ than that.”

Heather widened her eyes a little. “You did?”

“Yeah. It only really set in that I couldn’t do it when the thought of not having any close friends with me anymore set in, so I finally said yes.” He took another gulp, and winced at the brain freeze. “When I first met Veronica, I was having a really bad day, and I had a really bad impression of her. She hung out with all of you - I thought she was going to be like every other bitch who bullied me in every school I’ve been to. I was going to try and ruin her reputation by hooking up with her.”

“ _What?_ ”

“I didn’t go through with it, because I realised she was actually nice.” He stared at his cup, and Heather saw legitimate regret in his eyes. “I’d gotten in a fight earlier that day, outside of school. I was pissed off about it, especially because I lost. I thought that getting some control over some of the popular kids would make me feel better.”

Heather bit her lip, the words resonating with her. “Whenever I feel like shit, I’ll sleep with whatever guy I can get a hold of so I can feel in control. It feels good in the moment, but then it’s over, and I feel as though it’s the other way around.” Her vision became unfocused. “If I weren’t so sad about what happened, I wouldn’t have felt the need to prove it didn’t bother me anymore, but I keep doing it.”

“Because whoever hurt you shouldn’t get a say in what you can and can’t do.”

“Exactly.” Her lip curled a little and her mind began to wander, so she did the first thing she could think of and drank some of her slushie. “ _Euch!_ Jesus, that’s fucking _gross!_ ”

“But it works though,” JD said. Heather whipped her head around to argue, only to realise that the chill of the ice had actually distracted her mind from whatever wormhole it was about to be sucked into. She frowned at how he was right, but it didn’t stop her from taking yet another sip.

“I guess I’m just so determined to prove that nothing’s going to get in my way,” Heather sighed, placing the tapes on her lap. “But all it’s done has blown up in my face. Now everyone’s mad at me, and everything is changing. I tried to keep everything how it was supposed to be and got the exact opposite of what I wanted.” She sipped more of her slushie. It was still gross. “It just goes to show I have no control at all.”

“And it sucks - I know. You don’t want your trauma to make you scared or lost or helpless, you want to be stronger than that,” JD said. “But you have to realise, there’s no shame in admitting you’re a little fucked up.”

Heather raised a brow skeptically. “Isn’t there?”

“No, because it’s not your fault you’re fucked up. What is your fault is what you do to try and fix that.” He sighed. “It’s a struggle, but just because it’s harder doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do it.”

Heather frowned. “I like things being easy.”

“Everyone does, but as it turns out, your way wasn’t very easy, was it?” he said. “Everything’s kind of a mess right now.”

She gingerly sipped her drink and reluctantly nodded.

“You don’t have to figure it all out in one go,” JD said. “You have plenty of time to think. When are you coming back to school?”

“In about a week.”

“See, you have all that alone time to try and figure shit out,” he said. Well, at least one of them thought it was a good thing to be alone. “It might be hard, and also, your mind might wander a bit if you’re all alone, so make sure you’re being kind to yourself.”

“You’re telling me to practice self love.”

“Everyone needs to be reminded sometimes.”

Heather rolled her eyes. “Not exactly sure how. I suppose I’ve been a little productive, but there’s only so much sewing I can do.”

“Try baking, maybe?” JD shrugged. “I dunno, don’t people bake bread when they have nothing better to do?”

“Baking is so _precise._ Cooking is my forte.”

“There’s a difference?”

“You can’t fuck with baking recipes, that shit will burn or explode.”

“How the hell is baking relaxing, that sounds so stressful.”

“ _Exactly.”_

Heather couldn’t believe she heard herself chuckle - she didn’t think it was possible to genuinely _laugh_ with somebody like JD. Maybe everything she’d ever worked for was really getting thrown down the drain and then fucked up beyond all belief. Usually, thinking about that possibility scared her, but just this once, she saw a good stray hair floating in the wind.

“So, how exactly do I stop myself from going fucking insane while spending another week mostly alone?”

“That’s up to you. Just don’t burn your house down with sourdough,” JD said. “You’re rich, I’m sure you can afford heaps of entertainment to distract you from thinking about all the damage you’ve done.”

“ _Ouch._ ”

“I mean, you kinda did a lot of-”

“No. _Brain freeze._ ” Heather pressed her palm against her temple and squeezed her eyes shut as she waited for the pain to fade. Oddly enough, the pain had distracted her from how much his words would have stung, and she was starting to think there was a method to his madness. “So, what, I just keep myself distracted enough to not think about how both of my girlfriends don’t want to even face me right now?”

“Not what I said. I’m just saying, don’t spend too much time letting your mind wander. That’s how you end up sitting in a freezer because your PTSD got so bad that squirting lemon juice directly in your mouth wasn’t enough.”

“How long did you sit in it-?”

“About five minutes.” JD pursed his lips. “It worked, but seriously, I don’t recommend it.”

“No, I don’t think I will, thanks.” She rolled the straw around her cup and sighed. “And while I appreciate the advice, like I said, I’ve already been trying to keep myself in good spirits, but…” She shrugged. “Kinda hard to do that when Veronica and Mac hate my guts, you know?”

JD fell quiet for a moment, which would have been fine, had he not been keeping up a flowing conversation for the last twenty minutes or so. She looked at him and was met with a knowing stare.

“Would you like me to become even less mysterious and reveal one more motivation I’ve kept under wraps?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I know how much Veronica and Heather miss you,” he said. “They won’t shut up about you - you know Veronica called me a dumb fuck the other day? Seriously, it’s annoying.” He turned his whole body towards her and his expression grew serious. “Martha, Betty and I? We don’t understand you. We have no idea what either of them see in you, even after we asked, because it’s a side of you none of us have ever seen. But that - to me, at least - doesn’t matter. I see how much they love you, and I can tell that more than anything, they want you back.” His voice softened as he leaned closer. “But they can’t have you if you don’t change.”

His words somehow warmed and shattered her heart at the same time, and whatever feeling she was feeling, she wasn’t sure if she could name accurately. Thickly swallowing, she replied,

“I don’t know how, JD.” Her voice was raspier than she wanted to admit. “I really don’t know how. I don’t even know where to begin, and I don’t know what to _become._ This-” she gestured to herself, “-is all I know how to be. A stone-cold, heartless bitch who floats above everything because I’m just too good for it. I’ve come too far to let it fall apart. What the hell do people expect from me now? This is all I _am._ ”

The corner of JD’s mouth quirked up. “I thought you’d say that - which is why I wasn’t finished talking.”

“What?”

JD leaned back and began to search his pockets again, this time a little more unsure about where he put whatever he was looking for.

“Like I said, I know how much Veronica loves you,” he said, finally pulling out a folded up piece of paper. “Therefore, I want the best outcome - I’m sure you can imagine what that is.” He held out the paper towards her. “Here.”

“What is this?”

“A steer in the right direction,” he said as she hesitantly took it. “When you finally figure out what you need to do, you’re going to need that.” He gulped down the last of his slushie, cringed from the brain freeze, and let out a satisfied sigh. “Have a good weekend.”

“You’re leaving?”

“My shift starts in five,” he said, standing up and already getting ready to leave.

“Wait!”

He turned around.

“What do I do with these?” She held up the tapes that she’d almost forgotten were sitting on her lap. JD shrugged.

“They’re yours, so it’s up to you. I gave them to you because they’re not mine to destroy. Not that you have to destroy them.” He turned around again, continuing to walk away, but before he took a fourth step, Heather blurted out,

“JD?”

He paused, but he didn’t turn around this time.

“Thank you.”

She caught him glimpsing over his shoulder, offering the slightest of smiles, before finally walking away, leaving her alone on the log. She still had half of her drink to finish, and she considered sitting there until she was done, but the thought of doing that without JD’s company suddenly seemed incredibly off putting. Instead, she looked at the slip of paper she’d been handed and unfolded it. When seeing what was written on it, she only grew more confused.

“I know her address. How forgetful does he think I am?” She blinked. “Okay, nevermind.”

She shoved it in her skirt pocket, along with the tapes, and stood up. She slowly maneuvered through the cluttered patch of woods, kicking cans and wrappers as she walked, and once again feeling incredibly alone in what she would usually call tranquility.

That is, until footsteps could be heard rushing back in her direction. She looked up from the floor, and saw JD darting over to her and stopping just behind the small wall she was about to step over.

“Okay, so if you and Veronica do make up, _please_ do not tell them about what I just told you,” he said, panting. “Like, ever. I feel like a dick.”

Heather just snickered. “I’ve caused you enough suffering, it’s okay.” 

“Phew.” He swiped his forehead with relief. “Thank you. Okay, I gotta go to my shift. I wish you luck fixing your mistakes.”

“Thanks.”

With that, he hurried off again, this time leaving Heather with the slightest simper on her face. She knew it wouldn’t last - she’d go home, fall on her bed and let her brain overthink everything for hours until she fell asleep - that’s how her week had gone so far. But for now, she could let herself smile, even if it was at something she’d learned to always scorn.

How to make herself smile again, though, she’d have to think about over the weekend.

* * *

For the first time since all shit hit the fan, Chandler had actually initiated human interaction. She’d asked Heather to come and see her after school - it was important, I promise. Heather had said yes, and strangely enough, she had been looking forward to it all day. When telling herself to take care of Heather in these trying times, she had never at any point expected to _enjoy_ it. She fully expected her to be a sad sack of shit that she’d have to drag into the shower and then leave several notes around her room reminding her to stop crying. Yes, she did have to do that still, but despite all the happenings lately… she’d enjoyed her company.

Hopefully Chandler felt the same about her and didn’t view her as some overbearing figure telling her to take care of herself, and by how adamant she was about inviting her over, she figured her opinion on her was positive. It better fucking be; she was lucky to have her sticking around, after all.

She pressed the doorbell and waited patiently, classwork tucked under her arm. Good to know her new reputation hadn’t worn off over the weekend, as shown by how quickly the geek table had finished Chandler’s notes at her command. She also didn’t have anywhere near as many comments thrown at her today, which was a relief, but also, she hoped they weren’t getting too bored of her yet. She didn’t want them moving to more vulnerable targets - that would defeat the whole purpose of her coming out to begin with.

Soon enough the door opened, clearly being clumsily fumbled with on the other side, and standing on the other side was a pleasant surprise. Chandler was fully clothed, for one, and while her hair was loose, it seemed to be well-kempt. She was only wearing mascara, but hey, who would wear makeup when you’re alone in the house anyway? It’s not like she needed it.

She was about to comment on all of this improvement, before she looked down, and saw two completely out of place things stuck to her hand.

She _screamed._

“Hello to you too,” Chandler greeted, watching Heather stumble back down the steps. She looked unimpressed, her free hand on her hip as she arched a brow at Heather.

“Heather… what the _fuck_ is that?”

“That? You mean _those,_ Heather,” she teased, and had Heather not been completely creeped the hell out, she would have tried to jab back.

“Yeah, _those._ ” She pointed to two large, brown oval shapes stuck to her hand. “What are _those?_ ”

“Those are my pets, Heather,” Chandler replied calmly, holding the things up. “This one’s Peanut,” she pointed to… one of them. “This one’s Almond.” She pointed to the other.

“How can you tell the difference?”

“Take a closer look and you’ll find out.” Chandler suddenly smirked, lifting her hand up to shove in Heather’s direction, who backed up even more with a disgusted yelp.

“ _No no no no._ ” Her hands coiled back in fear. “No, keep them on you, please.”

Chandler chortled at her reaction - at least one of them was having fun - but complied anyway. She held her occupied hand close to her chest and pointed to… was that one Almond? “Almond has a round head - she’s a girl. Meanwhile, Peanut, here-” she pointed to the other one, “-has a more rigid head. He’s a boy.”

Slowly nodding in understanding, Heather finally managed to compose herself. She took a deep breath, and released it, and found a calm tone to speak in.

“Heather, are those cockroaches?”

“Madagascan Hissing Cockroaches, to be exact.”

“Heather?”

“Yes?”

“ _Why?_ ”

Chandler shrugged. “Why not?”

“I can think of _several_ reasons.”

“Don’t be mean to them. They’re adorable.”

“Adorable is not the adjective I’m thinking of,” Duke said. “Heather, what are your parents going to say?”

“Who says they’ll find out?”

“You can’t just _hide_ a pet, Heather.”

Chandler smirked, gesturing for her to come inside. Heather did so with caution, making sure there was a good distance between her and Chandler as they walked. Just seeing the insects on her hand was enough to make her skin crawl, so the reason why she willingly bought these things was beyond her comprehension.

Once in her room, Chandler led Heather over to a desk in a darker corner of her room that was originally unused. Last time Heather saw it, it was piled with general clutter on top of it. Now, though, there was a small glass tank with leaves, a thing log and the cardboard bit of a former toilet roll inside.

“See? I can easily hide it, no problem,” Chandler said, walking over to the tank, though she didn’t put the roaches away quite yet. Heather was still incredibly stunned.

“Heather, why in the fuck did you buy some _cockroaches?_ ”

“Because I like cockroaches,” Chandler replied nonchalantly. “You wanna see something cool?”

Heather wasn’t sure if she should trust that.

“Come as close as you can get.”

Heather took a whole step forward, and decided that going any closer would risk the insects leaping onto her. Chandler then reached her hand out a little further, which already made her uncomfortable, and before she could ask what she was doing, she used her other hand to tap one of the cockroaches’ backs.

Out came a hiss.

“ _What the fuck!_ ” Heather backed away even further as she listened to the surprisingly loud hissing noises being emitted from the creature. “That thing just fucking _hissed!_ ”

“Well, they are Madagascan _Hissing_ Cockroaches,” Chandler said with a snicker, before finally opening the tank to release them back into their enclosure. “Sleep well, sweethearts.” She sealed the enclosure shut and clicked her tongue. “I better wash my hands.”

“No _shit._ ”

“Not because they’re dirty! They’re actually incredibly clean,” Chandler said, walking past her to make her way to the bathroom. Heather decided to follow, but still kept her distance just in case she risked being touched. “But they have mites on them.”

“ _Mites?_ ” Heather could have thrown up right then and there.

“Calm down, they’re not interested in humans,” Chandler said, stepping into her bathroom and, thankfully, reaching the sink. “It’s just in case.”

“What in the fuck did I miss over the weekend?”

“I heard Veronica and Heather went soul-searching shopping, so I did exactly that,” Chandler said, drying her hands. “Don’t know if I ever told you about my old obsession with insects, but there you have it, I like insects, and cockroaches are actually a very easy pet to keep.”

“But what if they escape?” She paused. “And… where did you hear about that?”

Heather ignored her second question. “They’ll die. It’s too cold for them to survive outside their cage for long.”

“But what if they _breed?_ ”

“Oh, I hope so!” Chandler’s hands shook with excitement at the motion. Heather did not understand in the slightest, but at least the gesture was cute. “Anyway, how was your weekend? How’s school?” She glanced at the papers under her arm. “Are those for me?"

Heather tilted her head curiously. “You’re in a good mood.” She eyed her suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

“Aren’t I allowed to be in a good mood?”

“No, I prefer it. But I didn’t expect it.” She handed her the papers. “And my weekend was fine, so was school. Now, why did you call me over? Was it to show me your new pets?” As she spoke, she hurried over to the sink to wash her own hands. No, she hadn’t gone anywhere near the cockroaches, but she knew her skin wouldn’t stop crawling unless she made sure they were clean.

“No. I mean, yes, but it wasn’t the main reason.” She waited for her to finish cleaning, before leading her back to her room. “I have something for you.”

“You do?”

The rest of the journey was silent, with Chandler reaching into one of her drawers on her vanity and pulling out what looked like rolls of paper after tossing her classwork on her unmade bed. She didn’t give Heather an explanation, instead just led her back out and down the stairs - hm, this was new.

Eventually they were in her back garden, and in the middle of the garden was a firepit, though no fire was lit. There were, however, two chairs sat near it, waiting for them.

“Care to explain?” Heather asked. Finally, Chandler unfolded her hand to show her what she was actually holding. They looked like… tapes? Rolled up tapes. “What is…”

“We’re not going to be on TV, Heather,” Chandler murmured. “No one outside the school will see my meltdown on stage, and no one outside our school will know that you’re trans.” She bit her lip, and suddenly her carefree attitude disappeared, replaced with a more serious one. “I’m sorry that anyone knows at all, Heather. All I’ve ever wanted is to protect you, and I failed to do that.” She looked back at her with glassy eyes. “But at least I can give you this.”

It clicked as to what the items in Heather’s hands really were, and an overwhelming sense of… relief? Relief she didn’t even know _existed_ \- flooded through her. She honestly hadn’t given the whole TV aspect a second thought lately, she’d been so focused on her reputation at school that thinking about people all around Sherwood learning such a thing about her was too much to think about. Now that she was not only being comforted with it, but also told that it was never going to happen at all… she felt like she could cry happy tears she hadn’t known she was holding in at all.

“Where did you get these?” she asked in a hoarse voice.

“It’s a long story,” Chandler said. “But who cares? They’re in the right hands now, and we get to do whatever we want with them.”

A smile spread across Heather’s face. “What were you thinking?”

Wordlessly, Chandler handed Heather the tapes - which felt dirty to even touch - and walked to the fire pit. Out of her skirt pocket she pulled a box of matches, which she lit with a single stroke, and dropped onto the coal. Flames burst out the pit, and Chandler looked back to Heather with a calming smile on her lips. They didn’t need to say anything, they both already knew what to do. Heather stepped forward, the heat from the fire grazing her skin already. It didn’t bother her though - it was actually comforting, getting a taste of the hell she was about to bring on the tapes in her hand. She came to stand by Chandler’s side, their arms brushing, but neither moved away despite the heat already being overpowering. Heather lifted her hand and gave the strips one last look, just before Chandler’s hand fell on top of hers, encasing them between their palms. They shared a look that said all the words they couldn’t think to say, before raising their hands over the fire and letting go of one another.

The flames engulfed the tapes, ready to burn them up until they were nothing but ashes, while Heather and Heather stood back and watched, hardly noticing how their hands intertwined again until Heather felt Chandler squeeze hers. She was slightly taken aback by the closeness, but it wasn’t unwelcome. She squeezed her hand back, and in tearing her gaze away from the fire to look at Chandler, she saw the corner of her mouth turn up. Maybe it was the fire, or how close they were standing, or some other reason, but it warmed Heather’s heart to see.

“This fire’s really hot,” Duke said. “You wanna sit?”

“Yeah.”

They sat down on the two seats, a little further away from the fire as well as downwind as to not get their eyes stinging with smoke, and simply watched the flames flicker and shrivel up the tapes into crumpled up black fire fuel. Soon enough, it became too bright for Heather to keep staring at, so she looked back to Chandler, who seemed to be fascinated by the behaviour of the fire. She seemed a lot more at peace than she had the previous week, but still not back to her old self. She was a lot more quiet, her mind seemed to be wandering a lot, and even if she’d found things to smile at, Heather knew she was likely still incredibly troubled.

“So, how are you feeling?” she asked. Chandler’s eyes flickered to her for a brief moment.

“I’ve been better,” she murmured. “But I’ve also been worse.”

“Well, that’s improvement,” she said.

“How did your date with Veronica and Mac go?” Chandler asked, a little more timidly. Heather gave a bittersweet smile.

“It went well, thank you,” she murmured, feeling a little bad for telling her, but she was the one who asked. “Veronica and I actually… um, you know…”

For a second, a glint of sadness could be seen in Chandler’s eyes, but she shook it off and replaced it with a teasing smirk.

“Who topped?”

If Heather wasn’t warm before, she was incredibly hot now. She slapped her arm. “That’s _personal!_ ”

“What? You’ve told me about all the times you spat cum in someone’s mouth. Is this really where you draw the line?”

Heather deadpanned at her. “Veronica.”

“Knew it.”

“ _Excuse_ me?”

“Hey, same boat, don’t worry.”

“Good to know?”

“It could be.”

“Meaning?”

Chandler’s mouth remained open as she tried to think of an answer. Eventually, she just shrugged.

“Are you okay?” Heather asked.

“I’m fine,” she replied, resting an arm on the chair to rest her cheek in her palm. “I’m just… missing out on a lot, huh?”

Heather’s brow knitted. While she felt sorry for her, she couldn’t possibly fix it, and neither could anyone or anything else, not even time. All of that had to come from Heather, and she couldn’t be sure if she really knew that.

“You don’t have to be,” is all she said. 

“Until I figure out how to fix everything, I will,” she murmured, still staring at the fire. A shred of hope lit up in Heather; maybe she did understand how actions and consequences worked after all.

Okay, that was unfair of her to say. She _did_ understand actions and consequences, but she’d evaded them for too long to really comprehend how to properly react. Now that there were only two paths to take - come up with a good enough apology, or cut everyone off entirely - she imagined it was incredibly daunting for her. Far too daunting to face alone, which is exactly why Heather stayed.

Or, that was part of the reason, anyway.

“This won’t last forever,” she told her, placing her hand on top of Chandler’s, who gazed back at her and smiled gratefully.

“No, but you know how impatient I am,” she said.

“Yeah, I know.”

They held each other’s gaze for a long moment, with no sound but the crackling of the fire to interrupt them. Under the darkening sky and the bright fire, Chandler’s appearance looked beautiful, no matter how stressed or troubled she may appear. The fire made her ginger locks glow a gorgeous golden, and outlined her features in the dark so that Heather got a perfect view of them all, no matter how long she had found herself staring at them for all these years. She found herself leaning closer, as if to get an even better view of her, and perhaps Chandler was doing the same, because she was moving closer to her too…

“So what are your thoughts on Peanut Butter and Almond Butter?”

Chandler had suddenly jolted away, but all her attention was on Heather, now having twisted her body around in the chair to face her. Only slightly confused, Heather snorted.

“I don’t understand why you chose _cockroaches,_ ” she said. “Not even a fish?”

“No! I can’t hold a fish,” she said. Heather _still_ didn’t understand - why would you want to _hold_ a cockroach?

“Don’t they fly?”

“These ones don’t have wings.”

“Well, there’s that at least.”

Chandler then looked back into the fire, and Heather followed her gaze. From what she could tell, the tapes were nothing but shards by now - she couldn’t see them through the flames anymore. Chandler let out a sigh.

“I should have asked if there was anything else you wanted to burn,” she said. Heather shrugged.

“If I think of anything else, we can just get the fire started again.” She noticed Chandler seemed a little distressed, with how her leg was beginning to bounce, so she rested her head against her shoulder in hopes it would distract her. It had certainly worked for Heather when she’d come to find her in that bathroom stall, and with how she felt the fist under her palm become unfolded, she figured it worked.

“Do you have anything else to burn?” Chandler asked, her voice now right next to her ear, only muffed by the fabric Heather was resting her head against.

“Probably,” she said as her mind wandered to her old notebook she’d sworn to never use again. But she pushed that thought away - the thought of getting rid of all those notes she’d taken about her diet was far too daunting to think about. “What about you?”

There was a long pause.

“I think so,” she murmured. “But I don’t know if I’m ready to destroy them quite yet.”

Heather wasn’t stupid. She was able to piece together that one of things she was talking about was that dress she’d picked up the other day. She wished she could say she couldn’t understand why someone would want to hold onto something that held such painful memories, but she couldn’t. She knew full well what that felt like; her therapist had told her to consider getting rid of her mirror in her room, but she’d yet to even make it face the wall. She hardly noticed her hand squeezing Chandler’s, but when feeling their fingers link, she felt more close to her than ever.

“That’s okay,” she said with the ghost of a smile lingering on her lips. “We have too much to burn all in one go anyway. Best to do it bit by bit so we don’t burn the whole neighbourhood down.”

She heard a warm chuckle from Chandler, and her head came to rest on her own.

“What if I already burned some of it down?”

Heather shrugged. “Might take a lot of work to fix, but it’s not impossible.”

“I see.”

Maybe another time they’d bring more to burn, when they were finally ready to let go of the things that hurt them. For now, though, they were both okay with burning one thing at a time.

Especially when they could enjoy watching it burn together.

**Author's Note:**

> she bought cockroaches :]
> 
> https://heathersgameoftag.tumblr.com/


End file.
